Blessed Anathema
by Troo16
Summary: Without warning, the flaming arms of a phoenix enveloped her. She screamed once and it was the most heart-wrenching sound he'd ever had to endure. No amount of magic he tried could stop what was happening before his very eyes... and he tried everything he could think of, short of killing her himself to end her pain. Warning: Contains dark themes and swearing
1. Prologue

**A/N: I've had the idea for this particular story bouncing around through my head for years. So I finally decided to put pen to paper (or rather, finger to keyboard), and write it out. It's going to be a multi-chapter story, so if you decide to stick around, be ready for an adventure. While I cannot commit to consistent weekly updating (I'm a full-time college student and I also work part-time), this story has become something like a baby to me, so I will update it as often as I can. Please feel free to leave a comment; I love receiving feedback!**

 **Now, without further ado, I give you the Prologue of** _ **Blessed Anathema**_ **.**

Prologue

December 27, 1985

Piercing the subtle quiet of a darkened winter night, the cries of a woman – young and determined – awakened the wolves that stalked the countryside surrounding her location. Their howls cut the wind that whipped through the trees. When the cries finally settled to nothing more than mere whimpers, the night quieted once again. Snow fell in light tufts to blanket the ground.

Inside a manor atop a hill that overlooked the countryside was a woman who held her swollen belly with both hands. She wore a nightdress of black silk that was made darker still by the fluid that had dispelled from her womb. House elves surrounded her on all sides of the king-sized bed while even more fetched warm water and soft towels.

The young woman took a gasping breath and clenched her teeth. Her eyes sought out her favorite – Bella, a young elf with wider than normal blue eyes and a narrow nose.

"W-Where's Tom?"

Bella nervously rung her hands. "We's already called the Dark Master, miss. We's called him twice, we have." Her elven companions nodded in agreement.

"And my sisters?"

"Here."

The young woman looked up in joy as her eldest sister practically floated into the room, platinum blond hair immaculate as always. Her icy blue eyes contrasted starkly against her warm and welcoming smile. She bent to give her baby sister a kiss on the forehead. "Bellatrix is tied up with a few things, currently. She'll be along soon, I hope."

Narcissa moved from her sister's side to begin examining her youngest sister's belly and cervix. Though she had no professional experience as a midwife, she had been there to deliver all of Bellatrix's babies (though they had all been stillborn).

"Maybe it's for the best she hasn't shown yet," the young woman panted with a wince. "I need _calm_ energy."

Narcissa chuckled lightly. "She'd hex you if she ever heard you say that, Kareena."

Before the mother-to-be could respond, she felt a sharp pain burn like fire inside her head. It momentarily blinded her, distracting her from the pain in her nether regions. The pain was intense, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It didn't even come close to comparing to the Cruciatus Curse. She attempted to lift her hands to her head to massage the pain out of her temples, but her arms felt like lead. Her mouth went dry and she gasped once more for air.

Then, without warning, the pain was gone. She was left with only the dull ache of her dilating cervix. Narcissa, who was too focused on the baby who would arrive any moment, had not noticed the excruciating discomfort her sister was in. It was Bella who noticed. The little elf was immediately by her mistress, stroking her wild curly blond hair. She picked up a glass of cool water and brought it to Kareena's lips.

As Kareena was drinking, she noticed a presence in the doorway.

"Tom."

Narcissa's eyes also flickered to the doorway. She rose and bowed her head as low as it could go. "My Lord."

Tom Riddle walked gracefully into the room. He stood taller than anyone else – slender, sleek, and strong. Not at all unlike a panther. His dark eyes locked with warm blue. He briefly glanced at Narcissa and the elves. "Please leave us for a moment."

"My Lord," Narcissa said, without making eye contact, "the baby will be here at any given moment. Her contractions are mere minutes apart."

"I'm well aware of where she is in the… process," Tom stated calmly. "I need to speak to her alone for a few minutes. Please leave us. I'll come get you when we're through."

Narcissa nodded, standing up from her place at the foot of Kareena's bed. She exited the room, house elves filing out the door behind her.

When they were gone and the door had shut, the Dark Lord bent his head and enveloped Kareena's lips in a soft kiss. It was tender and loving. Since she was 17 years old, he showed a side of himself to her that he wouldn't allow anyone else to see.

"How are you, my love?" he asked.

Kareena let out a soft sigh, the pain of another contraction creeping up on her. "Alright, for now. Truth be told, I'm scared, Tom."

Tom's lips formed a smirk. "You? Scared? Why, I thought I'd never see the day."

She pushed him, playfully, chuckling at his teasing. He smiled softly and laid a pale, spindly hand on her belly, his lithe fingers splaying across her stomach. The baby inside responded instantly, jumping at her father's touch and wriggling as though she already knew her place in his life. His breath caught in his throat and he cleared it in an attempt to play it off. Kareena rested her hand on his own, looking up at him lovingly.

"Thank you for being here, Tom," she said, using her other hand to stroke his cheek.

He caught her hand in his own and brought it to his lips to kiss it lightly. "There's no place else I'd rather be."

Another contraction crippled Kareena, and she moaned in pain.

Frowning, Tom stated, "There's a potion that would relieve this pain, you know."

Kareena shook her head slowly. "You know I wanted to do this naturally. No magic. Remember what happened to Joan Spierwarth?"

"Yes, love," Tom said, exasperatedly. "I remember. You've only reminded me several dozen times. Headstrong wench."

Before Kareena could retort, once again, another contraction blindsided her. The pain was getting very intense, a sign that the baby would surely be in arms in the next hour or so. Tom noted her pain, and stood, giving her one final kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. Moments later, Narcissa reentered the room with an exuberant Bellatrix, several house elves, and a single shaking midwife who (no doubt) was likely snatched on her way home from St. Mungo's.

"It's time to deliver my niece," Narcissa said coolly, laying a hand lightly on Kareena's head in comfort.

"Don't hurt our ickle little Kari-kins, or the Cruciatus Curse will feel like a mere stinging hex," Bellatrix said with a cackle.

Held at wand point, the midwife proceeded with delivering the baby.

* * *

Her crying had soothed to soft whimpers. Tom held the bundle tightly in his arms, unwilling to let go. A warmth grew in the pit of stomach and crawled its way throughout the rest of his body, reaching each of his limbs.

She was absolutely perfect. Her dark emerald green eyes were wide with wonderment, the thrum of infant magic radiating off of her tiny body. Her hair – much like his own – was a mess of dark brown curls that sat daintily atop her head. He ran his fingers through her hair – it was so soft, like duck fluff. Unlike anything he'd experienced before.

"Tom?"

He looked up at his wife, who was laying mere inches from him. He used one hand to brush a blond curl out of her face.

"You did excellent, my dear," he murmured. "She is healthy… strong. More importantly, the blood running through her veins is pure."

"I _do_ have impeccable genes, don't I?" Kareena said with a laugh.

* * *

The dawn was not met with a spectacular display of watercolor oranges, reds, and pinks. The sky was gray, the clouds dark. Snow had blanketed the ground. Soft white light reflected against the mounds of fluff, giving it the appearance of pearls glistening in milky water.

Tom shifted in bed. It was chilly in the room; he would have to remember to have a larger hearth installed in the room. His eyes remained closed as he reflected on the night before. He was a father. A father and a husband. The thought absolutely terrified him, although he would not admit it to anyone… not even himself. His childhood had been filled with abuse of nearly every nature. His father died a bitter, angry drunk who took his pain and frustrations out on his only son. Tom spent the majority of his childhood in a dark muggle orphanage. His tormentors there were not limited to the other orphans. The wet nurses and other staff held the place with an iron fist. If one child stepped out of line, they would receive thirty lashes.

No, his child would have better. She would grow, beautifully, under the finest tutors and duelists. She would know love from both of her parents. She would want for absolutely nothing, though she would still know the value of hard work and dedication.

Tom let out a light breath that was immediately cut short when he finally realized he was alone in the bed. He say upright, snapping his head to the left. Kareena was missing. He dared to peer into the crib that rested at the foot of the bed.

They were both gone. The window that led to the outside balcony was opened, curtains fluttering in the light wind. Suddenly, the cold of the room made sense to him.

A sickening feeling sat in the pit of his stomach. He roared, sparks of unfiltered and unchecked magic erupting from his fingertips. He flew out of bed and down the winding staircase, confused and concerned house elves trailing behind him. He pushed through the heavy cherry oak doors and was met with a burst of cold air which his thin black robes did nothing to protect against.

"Kareena!" his scream echoed throughout the entirety of the grounds of Riddle Manor. When the house elves realized what his desperation was in regards to, they immediately fanned out, looking for the lost woman and child. Bella turned on her heel to Apparate inside the manor where she used the Floo system in the foyer to call all of the Dark Lord's followers to Riddle Manor.

"Enough of this," the Dark Lord hissed. " _Locus serpentem desidero._ "

The incantation (one of his own creation, of course) caused his entire body temperature to drop below freezing. The path to Kareena's location revealed itself in musty green smoke. He followed. It led him several yards to the east, up a gently sloping hill. Interestingly enough, there were no footprints in the snow, though there were droplets of blood that were easy enough to track. He steadied himself and hardened his demeanor, preparing himself for the worst.

When he reached the top of the hill, he found his wife, naked from head to toe, swaying gently with his daughter at the bottom of the hill.

"Kareena?" he whispered.

She looked up at him. He immediately saw that her eyes were not her own. Her beautiful warm blue pupils had been replaced by milky white ones. He didn't know what to make of this magic.

"Kareena, come to me."

She looked away from him, towards the woods in the distance. She then looked down at the bundle in her arms, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Kareena?"

She sat the now crying baby down in the snow and quickly backed away from them both. Tom flew down the hill, scooping his child into his arms.

"KAREENA."

She ignored him once more as she began levitating in the air. Without warning, the flaming arms of a phoenix enveloped her. She screamed once and it was the most heart-wrenching sound he'd ever had to endure. No amount of magic he tried could stop what was happening before his very eyes... and he tried everything he could think of, short of killing her himself to end her pain. The smell of burning flesh made him wretch and gag. The baby was absolutely terrified but there was nothing he could do to comfort her.

And just like that, it was over.

Ashes fell softly to the ground, almost like snow. The morning was quiet once again, save for the crying child in his arms. He walked over to the ash that was once his beloved wife. He turned away, unable to bear it.

His followers all stood atop the hill, watching him in fear of his impending wrath. Had they witnessed the same scene he had?

Bella slowly – and quite bravely – stepped down the hill.

"I can take the babe, my Lord," she said, voice firm.

Tom looked down at the child in his hands. His stomach turned. She looked exactly like what he'd just lost. He couldn't handle it. He needed to kill someone. He needed to see blood.

"Yes," he finally stated. "Please do. Tell me, elf, is that midwife from the previous night still in the dungeon?"

 **A/N: I really hope you all liked the beginning part of this story! It is in no way even close to done yet. Don't forget to leave a review; I enjoy feedback of all kinds. I'll attempt to have Chapter 1 uploaded sometime within the next week (no promises)!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Wow, it's been a long time since I've updated! I'm currently in the full swing of school, and now that I have an idea of what my weekly schedule is looking like, I can attempt regular, weekly updates. Please don't forget to leave a comment!**

Chapter 1

 _One Year Later_

The early evening was quiet. The sun was making its disappearance from the sky in magnificent oranges, reds, and yellows. Though the typically ruthless winter had crept up on the vast Scottish countryside, the day was unusually warm and the snow was nonexistent. It's as if the weather knew the importance of the day and adjusted itself accordingly.

A house elf with a narrow nose and long ears scrambled around a room, wide emerald green eyes watching her dart from a vanity to a dresser and back to the vanity. The child, very nearly a year old, watched the elf with continued fascination as tiny dresses of every style and color levitated themselves above her crib.

"No no no," the little elf exclaimed, "these simply won't do!"

The child giggled at the elf's frustrations, clapping her hands in joy and not at all understanding the severity of the situation.

Without warning, another elf Apparated into the room.

"Bella," the first elf sighed with relief. "Levy needs your help!"

Bella took one look at the situation and immediately set to work. She motioned a levitating dress to come closer to her. It was a simple one – black velvet with silken red trim. She began making her adjustments. With a snap of her fingers, the red trim turned a deep green. The sleeves elongated themselves until they were wrist-length. She included cuffs at the wrists that clasped together with a single silver button. An elegant yet subtle damask print appeared near the bottom of the dress. The sewn in black sash completed the outfit. With another snap of the fingers, the dress appeared on the bubbly baby.

"Levy thanks you, Bella," Levy said with another sigh. "Levy's not too good at clothes making."

Bella smiled slightly in response and walked over to the baby, lifting her up out of her crib. The child was already wearing black stockings and black suede shoes. A simple velvet green headband completed the outfit, and she was ready for the night.

"Best get you off then, eh little mite?" Bella said, tickling her chin.

The child laughed in response, grabbing Bella's finger and bringing it to her mouth to chew. Bella nodded once at Levy and exited the room.

* * *

Books scattered the Dark Lord's desk. Crumpled pieces of ink-stained parchment littered his workspace as well as the floor. The fire in the hearth crackled away, flames occasionally flaring simultaneously with his rising anger.

He'd been searching for what seemed like decades for the cause of his wife's mysterious death. Every time he thought he was close, he was pushed back several steps. He wanted desperately to know what curse had overcome her, and if that same curse would extend to his child – his one and only heir.

He sighed sharply, and sat back in his leather chair. He hadn't spent too much time with his daughter. Of course, he'd arranged for her to be treated and cared for like royalty. She had the best maids and wet nurses as well as Bella, who'd become something like a surrogate mother to the child. There was no love lost, though she took after her mother with her exuberant personality, smile, and magic (which remained undeveloped due to her youth, but would undoubtedly match that of her parents).

It came down to the fact that looking at his daughter – even for more than a moment – was excruciating. She reminded him of what he'd allowed to happen. He'd allowed himself to fall in love with another. And he'd allowed that love to be taken from him. To slip between his fingers like loose sand.

He scoffed. _Love_. Such a useless emotion. And yet, it had consumed him. It had warmed him to his core. And now that he was without it, he felt himself weak for ever letting it occur. He was the Dark Lord. Ruthless, merciless. The tenderness Kareena Black had showed him as an extension of her own affectionate character had awakened something within him that should have forever stayed dormant and slumbering.

But she was gone now. Of someone's own doing. And he had the sneaking suspicion it was an indirect smite to him. She had simply been a pawn in a larger game that he absolutely could not stand to lose.

A knock sounded on the large wooden door of his study. "Enter."

The little house elf named Bella, who had appointed herself his daughter's keeper, stepped inside with the child. He nodded once at her. She proceeded to hand the baby over to him with a bow and Apparate from the room.

Tom looked down at his heir, who stared up at him with infantile curiosity. His stomach clenched. She was beginning to show signs of having a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose just like her mother.

"Impeccable genes," he whispered. He cleared his throat and hardened his gaze once more. He snapped his fingers and dark velvet ceremonial robes appeared on the child over her dress. A dark veil covered her face and he was thankful he would not have to look at the smile that reminded him so much of his late wife.

"It's time to introduce you, my dear."

* * *

The Grand Hall was silent, ominous cloaked figures standing in rows, facing north at attention. Lazy evening light seeped in through the stained glass windows, casting darkened shadows on stone walls. The figures subtly straightened their posture as the Dark Lord glided into the hall, holding the infant child. He sat himself in front of them on a throne made of iron snakes, red velvet, and pure Goblin gold.

"Kneel."

The figures knelt before their lord, masked faces bowing low.

"My daughter," he began, "my one and only heir, was born this day, one year ago, on the 27th day of December. Mark that date, my most loyal servants, for in 18 more Decembers, this witch will be a dark force to be reckoned with."

He glanced down at the girl who was now fast asleep and then back to his followers. "She will lead alongside me. She will rule the world with an iron fist. She will tolerate neither muggles nor mudbloods nor blood traitors. She will be an anathema. And so shall be her name. Rise and salute my heir."

The Death Eaters rose and placed their right fists strongly over their hearts in honor of their future leader.

Tom looked down at Anathema once more. "See how they show respect for you, my child," he said. "This is your future. This is your home. Welcome to the darkness." He took his wand and pressed the tip firmly against her chest, branding the symbol of her status into her skin.

The baby's eyes flew open at the sudden pain, and she began crying. Winds picked up within the hall as her unfiltered and unadulterated magic went wild. A circle of fire encased them all that was promptly distinguished by Tom with a flick of his wrist. The Death Eaters felt the power of the magic that enveloped them, and fell to their knees in a deep bow.

"My Anathema."

 **A/N: Shout out to the following users who have favorited/followed/commented. You guys keep me going!**

 **YOUR BIGGEST FAN (haha thank you, by the way)  
** **Quietlovingman  
** **linefyrstenbergandersen  
** **rosaruna3713**


End file.
